


A Dangerous Game

by girl_next_door_writes



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 10:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17020752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girl_next_door_writes/pseuds/girl_next_door_writes
Summary: East meets West in a tournament to end all tournaments but with so much on the line for everyone involved is anyone truly going to come out of this a winner?  Inspired by the musical Chess.





	1. Part 1

When it was first announced that the World Championships were to be held in the sleepy little town in the mountains, there had been a cry of bribery and corruption. And yet, here they all were. The same people who had been so vocal in their opposition, journalists, and fans all camping out in the small hotels. The locals, in turn, had seized the opportunity to bleed the fair-weather tourists for all they could before they disappeared as quickly as they had arrived. The real reason this place had been chosen for such an auspicious event that had the entire world watching, was because it was delightfully neutral. There was enough tension as the American World Champion took on the Russian new kid. The setting and all those associated with the committee on this one had been hand-picked for their fence sitting abilities.

As the car ambled down the cobbled streets of the quaint and picturesque place, you frowned at yet another poster advertising what was billed to be the biggest match in the history of the game. You were thankful for the tinted windows, knowing full well how much Tony loved to create a show. As long as nobody realised the famous Tony Stark was sat in the back of this car there was a chance you could get to the hotel and talk strategy before the opening match.

The excitement buzzed around the streets and you could see that shops had changed their names especially for the tournament. Stark and Barnes’ names were emblazoned everywhere from mugs to posters to… holy shit was that a 12-foot cardboard cut out of Tony?!? Yeah, this place definitely had reached fever pitch. In fact, fever pitch was probably reached some time ago and now… now it was bordering on mob mentality and you feared for Stark’s safety regardless of him winning or losing. So lost in your thoughts, and the worryingly obsessive scenes out the window, you had failed to notice Stark getting to his feet and open up the sunroof.

“HELLO, PEOPLE!” He boomed, his arms held high as the crowds began to scream and the car was bathed in the bright lights of camera flashes. 

With a sigh, you tugged at his jacket. “Tony, please. We need to get to…” but in true Stark style he cut you off.

“Come on. Each and every one of them is here for me. You think it’s love of the game? Think they have a new found respect for the art of logic and strategy?” He called out and you recognised his mocking tone. Pulling him back inside the car you frowned at him as he laughed mirthlessly. “They don’t give a shit about me or the game. They just wanna see if the American can kick the Russians ass, or the other way round. You think the quiet earnest, pretty boy can beat the loud mouth, alcoholic genius sweetheart?” His grin didn’t meet his eyes and your expression softened. You knew he had fought every step of the way to get where he was and even now he didn’t feel they respected him. He was the World Champion and still, they laughed and called him a joke.

“You are the best in the entire world, Tony. We have gone over plays and strategies, hell, you’ve even created new ones. In years to come they will still all know your name so forget about who is out there and concentrate on the game. Focus, Stark.” His eyes met yours and the manic fire that burned there abated for a moment.

“You’re right. Let’s kick some reds in the ass.”

Rolling your eyes, you knew he needed someone to be the bad guy and if that’s what Tony needed that’s what you provided. Being the ‘second’ to the mercurial player was hard work but it was also an honor, others would kill for. Sitting back in your seat your phone vibrated, and you checked the screen. Letting out a groan Tony’s head turned to look at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Press conference in fifteen.” You stated with irritation. The last thing you needed was to give him the distraction of a worldwide media platform.

 

“Ladies and gentleman, I present to you the Chess Champion of the WORLD!” Some god awful rock music blared out over the speaker system as Tony took to the stage in his usual understated style, all arm waving and power poses. Standing behind the scenes with his bodyguard, Rhodey, you shook your head and folded your arms across your chest. He was already wired and you just knew he was about to say something massively controversial that you would spend the next few years of your life trying to justify.

“Okay, whaddya wanna know?” He gave the crowd a winning smile and his grip on the mic grew a little tighter as the cacophony of voices bounced around the room, each individual vying to be heard in the chaos.

“Would you risk the whole match just to bring him down?” A voice rang out above the noise and Tony frowned.

“I… I don’t know what you’re saying, what… what are you implying?” he squinted trying to see who had asked the question but another question to his left caught his attention.

“Did you get all your outrageous demands met or have you demanded even more?” His eyes focused on a smug looking woman with her microphone held out in his direction and he raised an eyebrow. Sure his list of ‘requirements’ for the competition was extensive but outrageous?

“I don’t see anything outrageous in demanding what I’m worth here. I’m the World Champion,” He stood up straight and extended his arms to the sides proudly before bringing his microphone back to his lips. “and as such, I am entitled to as much as I can get away with.” He laughed, always the showman.

“Does your opponent deserve such abuse?” Another reporter yelled, and the room went quiet. Tony’s cocksure mask slipped slightly, a hint of irritation at such ridiculous questions. The press had always been more or less on his side but this, this was a shift he hadn’t been prepared for.

“What? What abuse? You saying he can’t handle a little affectionate name calling now? Maybe he needs to get a sense of humor or is that something all Russians fail at?” You groaned and placed your head in your hands. It was comments like that which made everyone’s life a little more difficult.

“You have to admit Barnes can play.” The same reporter shot back, determined to find out his true thoughts on his opponent.

“He’s the best they’ve got I’ll give him that but…” Stark began only to be cut off by a shrill woman with a vague accent he couldn’t quite place.

“He’s unbeaten. Stronger than any opponent you’ve previously come up against. You worried Mr Stark?” His eyes met hers and she looked just as smug as she sounded.

“Worried? Does this look like the face of someone who is worried? Look, if he gets a single game off me it’s because I want to keep things interesting.” Tony shrugged it off with a laugh but inside he was shaken. He knew the guy was unbeaten, that his game was on point, but having that thrown in his face publicly took him by surprise a little.

“If you’re that confident in your own abilities then why the constant personal attacks aimed at your opponent?” She continued challengingly. You frowned and raised up on your tiptoes, trying to see who this reporter was.

“What? I… Have any of you people got any serious questions?” Tony scoffed but the press could see they had him on the ropes.

“Will you quit if you lose?” A voice from the back called out with a definite Russian accent. Stark ignored them.

“How come your second’s a girl? Is there something going on there?” Someone closer to the front asked and it took him a beat to acknowledge it.

“What did you say?” A look of confusion was now on Tony’s face and a panic rose up within you.

“I asked how come your second is a girl?” The reporter asked with a smirk on his face. He was hitting a nerve with Tony and he knew it.

Tony looked at the reporter in disgust and threw his microphone to the floor before storming off the stage, the camera’s going wild once again. The room exploded with questions and exclamations; reporters thrusting their recorders at his back. You exchanged a look with Rhodey, both of you obviously concerned about this turn of events.

“I’ll go after him, you keep the press away. This will only get worse if he punches someone.” Your voice was weary, and he patted your shoulder before you each went your separate ways. If the press was turning on him then that would get under his skin, into his head and right now he had a championship to win. You had to get his head back in the game.

Karpov turned off the television with a triumphant grin. “What did I say?” he gloated, turning to look at Barnes. “He’s finally flipped. There’s no way he can hope to retain his title in this frame of mind. The man is utterly mad.”

The small hotel room was filled with books and boards, each in varying state of play. The curtains were closed, and the lights dim as the figure of James Barnes loomed over a table apparently deep in thought.

“The problem is he isn’t. That man has singlehandedly revived the entire game, his name is synonymous with chess, that is not blind luck.” James’ tone suggested indifference but in truth he was worried. Stark was a maverick, a brilliant lunatic which meant his movements were unpredictable. No matter how much preparation he had done for this tournament he could not say with any certainty he knew what move Stark would make.

“Judging from that display, he knows he isn’t the player he was and…” Karpov continued only to be cut off by Barnes slamming a book down on the table, concentration now completely broken.

“If you knew anything at all about the game you would know just how wrong that statement is.” He looked up and dared to look his ‘handler’ in the eye for just a split second before his gaze dropped once more to the table.

“We don’t underestimate anyone. The whole world is tuned in and Russia will be triumphant.” Karpov’s voice held such certainty with an underlying edge that had Barnes shifting slightly.

“I need to concentrate and here you are parading around spouting third rate rumor as fact.” He collapsed back in his chair, tired of the whole damn parade. “Just… just get out. I have 12 hours to prepare so if you want me to win, then leave.” His hand ran down his face and he heard the door close, much to his relief.

James Barnes didn’t want to be there. This had never been the dream, this was some twisted obsession that had isolated him, turned him into this machine. Oh, he had wanted this; a long time ago he had only dreamed of playing on the world stage and having even a shot at the title, but nobody had told him what he would lose, what the price was for this would be.

His talent had been noticed a few years ago and that’s when they had moved in. Oh, it was so discreetly at first, so slowly he hadn’t even realised it. All sweet smiles and grand promises as they used his talents to open political doors, all the while placing one arm around him and guiding him to exactly where they wanted him to be. By the time he had realised he had put his trust in the wrong people, it was too late. He was a household name, doing what he had always wanted to be, what he had always said he would and yet, it felt like such a hollow victory. There was always another hurdle, another door to open, another opponent to take down and if he didn’t… that wasn’t even an option. His only hope was that when this all ended, when they were done with him, that he would at least still be standing.

He wasn’t complaining, he would never go that far. The ride had been thrilling, the opportunities beyond his wildest imaginings and yet the cost for each game, each victory, felt like a small part of his soul being torn away. He was the Russian poster boy and that meant keeping up appearances at all times. Concealing any form of independent thought, sticking closely to the party line. Saying what they told him to, being where they said, thinking what they demanded. Ever since he had stepped onto this rollercoaster his life was not his own and he feared that once they had taken all that he was, he would be left right back where he started, a struggling nobody. Turning to his playbook he flicked through the pages unseeing. His face became blank, emotionless, and the game filled his mind, he was Russia’s greatest asset and they had trained him for this moment.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tournament begins but with so much pressure on both sides how long before the cracks begin to show? And when they do what does that mean for everyone around them?

Tony hadn’t slept. That wasn’t particularly unusual, but he had spent the entire night watching an endless loop of Barnes playing each and every match that brought him to the final. He was looking for a tell, a weakness, but with each match, he began to realise there was nothing. It was almost as if this man was a chess-playing machine and each of his triumphs had Tony feeling a little more uncertain, something he had never felt before when it came to chess. He had left text messages and phone calls unanswered, his focus on the screen, unable to shift his attention.

When you entered the room after pounding on the door for a solid five minutes, you felt your heart break a little at the sight before you. True you had walked into Tony’s room and seen more compromising events before but sitting in the darkness, illuminated only faintly by the glow of the screen he was sitting so close to, you saw a broken man and he hadn’t even played a match. 

“Tony.” Your voice was soft and you placed a hand on his shoulder, glancing over to the doorway you mouthed to Rhodey that you had this. Reaching over you took the television remote from his hand and turned off the screen, an action which seemed to break whatever spell Stark had been under. He turned to look at you, dark circles under his bloodshot eyes and you caressed his cheek gently. “You are the amazing genius Tony Stark.” He scoffed at your words but you knew he wanted you to continue. “This sport was nothing before you came along and now everyone in the world is taking an interest.” This earnt a modest nod of agreement which made you smile briefly before giving him your best ‘mom’ look. “You are going to go shower, put on your trashiest band t-shirt with that pair of jeans you know full well makes your ass look amazing, and you are going to go out there to the opening ceremony and kick that guy’s ass.” The faint smile at the edge of his lips told you it was working. “Come on Stark, show him he’s dealing with the big leagues now. You’re kinda a big deal. Remind him and everyone else of that.” Your eyes never left his and with each stroke of his ego, you could see a spark of what made him the greatest.

“You think those jeans make my ass look amazing? Never knew you cared.” He smirked and you rolled your eyes, a smile of relief appearing on your face.

“Come on, you’re already going to be fashionably late.” You chastised playfully and as he disappeared off to the shower you cleared up a little. You knew Tony was rattled by this one and you couldn’t deny that worried you, but you were his second, his closest companion in this arena, no matter what happened you were both in this together.

Tuning out the sound of the crowd James stood stock still, his eyes closed, as he mentally went over the many variations the game could take. From his position off stage, he could hear the chanting of his name mingled with the Stark supporters and he wondered, for a fraction of a second, how his opponent coped with this circus on what seemed like a daily basis. He didn’t get chance to linger on this thought before Karpov was pushing him towards the stage and a barrage of camera flashes hit him. Ignoring the crowd, he turned and walked stiffly to the board that was set up in the center, pausing for a moment as he became aware of the presence of Stark bounding onto the stage.

Used to this kind of reception, Tony’s dark glasses protected his eyes and also hid what redness remained there after his sleepless night. Prowling up and down the edge of the stage with a winning smile he whipped up the crowd, holding his hand to his ear dramatically as the chants of his name grew louder. He fed off their energy, their belief. 

You had followed him onto the stage and took up your position standing behind the board next to Karpov, your face a mask of indifference. Vasily, Karpov looked you up and down and leaned over to say something when The Vision appeared on stage as if by magic. As far as arbiters went he was the best, neutral to the very last move and he quickly guided Tony to his seat.

A hush descended as Vision stood in front of you and Karpov, looking out at the crowd. “On behalf of all our sponsors, I welcome you to the Chess World Championship.” His voice boomed and echoed around the hall. Leaning forward slightly his gaze turned to Stark. “I don’t care if you’re a champion,” he looked then at Barnes, “or a challenger, nobody gets away with anything, no theatrics, secret signals, cheating or distraction of any kind. Is that clear gentlemen? I am the arbiter and my word here is law. I have been doing this for many years now and don’t think for one moment I haven’t seen each and every trick in the book. This is not the start of World War Three, there will be no political ploys, I am not impressed by America or Russia on the global political stage and where you come from holds no relevance here. I want clean matches, please. Now, when you are ready, shake hands and you may begin.

James held his hand out to Tony and there was a sharp intake of breath as Stark looked like he was about to shake hands but at the last moment pulled it away and ran it through his hair. A childish move but not entirely unexpected from your partner. Keeping his eyes on Barnes, Tony moved his first pawn and the game began.

The initial moves were quick and almost frantic before both players slowed considerably, trying to gauge the other and anticipate future moves. Your body was tense as you stared at the board, trying to keep up with Tony’s thought process. You became aware of the man next to you leaning over a little.

“It really doesn’t matter if your man doesn’t come out on top. His way of life will not be threatened when he fails.” He hissed so quietly you could barely make out his words through his thick accent. 

Raising an eyebrow you clenched your teeth and decided to ignore such a tactical barb and focus on the game. You knew better than to distract the players and were surprised this man had been so bold, flaunting the rules clearly in place. From the corner of your eye, you could see a sleazy smirk on his lips and you wondered how someone as professional at Barnes had ended up with such an ass as his back up. In fact, you wondered how much this man actually knew about the game. The click of the pieces against the board were the only sounds audible and you played his comment over in your mind, looking it at different angles before a small frown appeared on your face. Tony’s way of life was not threatened should he fail, but what about Barnes? You glanced once more at Karpov, there was something about him that said he didn’t belong here, maybe he was dangerous.

Karpov placed his hands behind his back a self-satisfied smirk on his lips. His boy was going to smash the American bastard. By the time they were done here, Stark would need to change his name and have extensive plastic surgery in order to hide from the humiliation. They hadn’t come here to claim second place, there was no use in losing and he had made sure Barnes knew that. He snapped his fingers almost absentmindedly causing Bucky to twitch slightly and then reconsider his move.

Tony frowned and glanced at Karpov before back down to the game. Was there something going on there or was it pure coincidence? He wasn’t sure but right now Stark looked like he could win this, so he refocused on the board. Three, no four moves and he could have Barnes beat.

The slight twitch at the corner of his mouth let you know he felt in control of this and you relaxed a little. Startling slightly as Karpov gave a cough next to you and Barnes’ head turned a little, his brow furrowed as he reassessed his next move. 

“They are cheating,” Tony said angrily and James looked up at him in surprise.

“Excuse me?” he said in confusion.

“You’re cheating!” Tony stated again glaring at his opponent.

“I don’t understand.” Barnes looked from Stark to Vision trying to comprehend where the outburst had come from.

“Mr Stark..” Vision began but Tony was becoming more and more enraged by the situation which was compounded by his lack of sleep.

“You can’t seriously expect me to continue when the Russians are CHEATING!” he yelled, getting to his feet so quickly the table, with the board upon it, shook slightly.

“Tony.” You stepped forward, reaching for his arm in an attempt to placate him.

“They’re sending him signals! The clicking and the coughing and whatever else the hell they have going on. Cheaters. The filthy Russian bastards are taking the piss and you aren’t doing anything about it.” His eyes snapped to Vision, whose brows were pulled down in contemplation. Tony mistook his silence and continued his outburst. “What? They paid you off?”

Vision who was looking far from impressed at this behavior, straightened and said, “I am impartial Mr Stark. Your current behavior however…”

“FUCK MY CURRENT BEHAVIOR!” he raged and flipped the game board before storming off the stage leaving you torn between going after him and smoothing things over here.

“This game is null and void ladies and gentlemen.” Vision announced before indicating everyone should leave the stage.

As soon as Vision was out of the public arena, Karpov was beside him. “I speak on behalf of my entire country when I say we are disgusted by this incident, this blatant disrespect shown by the Americans. We are here for chess, can they say the same? Must every match end in this manner without reprimand or penalization for such outrageous conduct?”

“I must protest in the strongest terms!” You strode over and glared at the Russian with such venom he very nearly took a step back. “Tony had some very good points although he may not have voiced them appropriately.” Turning to look at Vision, your expression softened a little yet remained professional. “These things are not just black and white as anyone in your neutral position would agree. I have to say that I don’t necessarily believe Barnes intended to bend the rules but his ‘second’ seems intent on distraction techniques. If they agree to cease their ‘psychological’ assault on my companion then under protest he will proceed.” Sadly, you were used to pleading Tony’s case and even when you succeeded in moving heaven and earth in situations such as these he was still churlish and reminded everyone he did so reluctantly.

“If your man is so soft and sweet then why has my player had to endure months of public verbal attacks?” Karpov raised his eyebrows and you fought the urge to roll your eyes, this man was clever and you just knew everything Tony had ever done would be dragged back out into the light and analyzed. “If he is so adamant that WE are the ones cheating then why was he the one to leave?” 

Vision opened his mouth to answer but you got their first.

“I am not surprised he wanted to be away from your company once he realised there was no hope of a fair game.” Your words dripped with distaste and Barnes looked up from where he was leaning on the wall with interest. He had seen you before, you were at all of Starks matches but he hadn’t really paid much attention before, you were not the one he needed to beat.

“With regards to Stark,” Barnes spoke up, “I would say it’s getting harder to refute the ever-growing suspicion that he is ‘losing it’.” He looked directly at you as he spoke and his use of air quotes made you want to break his stupid fingers.

“I have to say,” You said with a sweet smile as you moved slightly in Barnes’ direction, “I would expect you of all people to understand the strain and pressure of getting to where he’s at. It is not an easy ride becoming the world’s greatest.” Bucky nodded his head thoughtfully for a moment and you began to turn back to Vision before Karpov could pour any more poison on proceedings, but James continued.

“I have to wonder, how can someone even half as civilized and as nice as you, be part of such a self-destructive point of view? I hope he pays you what you’re worth.”

You frowned, unsure if that was a backhanded compliment and as your eyes met his stormy grey ones you saw genuine curiosity there. “I’m not here for the money.” You said quietly and a look of resigned understanding rolled over his face as he assumed, like many people before him, that your relationship with Stark was more than professional. “My only interest is working with the best.” His eyes met yours once more, a question there now. He was wondering how you could continue to be so passionate when surrounded by such destructive madness.

“I hope one day your dream comes true.” His voice was low and although you were both surrounded by people it felt like such a private moment, broken by his next words. “Until that day,” he shot a look over to where Tony had made his dramatic exit, “I hope you cope with babysitting the second best.” He saw the hurt fleetingly cross your face and immediately wished he could take such a stupid comment back but Rhodey appeared, taking your wrist to gain your attention.

“He needs you.” He whispered and with a soft nod you turned and apologized once more to Vision before hurriedly making your way to Stark’s room.


	3. Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of Tony’s little tantrum how on earth will the tournament get back on track? A little alcohol, a lovely view and some moonlight could make all the difference, but for which player?

Tony was sat at the desk, a board in front of him, a perfect reconstruction of the game he had just walked out on. Staring at the board as if it would tell him more about his opponent he didn’t even look up as you walked in. Seeing him sitting there now so calm had your blood boiling.

“You want to lose the few friends you have then keep up the theatrics Stark.” You snarled. “Do you know how humiliating it is for me to defend you like that? You made me look like a fool, the choice I made to work with you foolish. I’ve taken this shit for seven years, Tony. SEVEN FUCKING YEARS!” He glanced up as you dropped into the chair opposite and ran a hand over your face defeated. “I won’t take this anymore.” Barnes words ran through your mind about being paid what you were worth, the pay wasn’t the issue, but a little respect would go a damned long way.

“I’m only messing with the Soviets.” He shrugged and gave you a boyish grin that you immediately wanted to slap from his face. You both knew his tantrum was about more than winding up the Russians. “Besides,” his gaze dropped back to the board. “you’ve a much better reason to hate them than me.” The way the words casually rolled off his tongue had a heat of anger roll through you.

“There’s a time and a place for…” you began only to be cut off by his own accusatory tone.

“This from the girl who has always said she wants to know the truth about what happened.” He raised an eyebrow, knowing full well he had hit a nerve.

“There is a time and a place. This is neither.” Although your voice was low, there was a cautionary edge that Tony had never heard directed towards him before, but he ignored the warning.

“I’d have thought you’d support my attack of these ‘people’.” He looked up at you, a coldness in his eyes that would have sent a chill through you if it wasn’t for the heat of your own fury. “These people ruined your life, stole your childhood, murdered your parents and you are defending them? So, maybe they weren’t the one to actually carry out the deed but a Russian is a Russian and all these years on that hasn’t changed.” He rose from his seat and rounded the desk, leaning on it with his arms folded as he faced you. “This is more than a game, this is a war. They are playing us off against each other, trying to break us. You walk out on me now and they will have won their first battle.” His demeanor softened a little and he crouched down, taking your hands in his as he looked up into your eyes and for a moment he looked like a lost little boy. “Wouldn’t your father have wanted you to stay in the game?”

“He would,” you nodded your head softly before your jaw tightened. “But he didn’t know you.” Taking your hands from his you stood up and walked around Tony to look at the board on the desk. “If he were here, if he saw the way you were behaving Stark, how you were treating me…” Tony got to his feet and turned ready to plead with you, he knew he may possibly have taken this a step too far. “…he would hate your behavior.” You turned to face him and there was a look of such sadness in your eyes that he found himself unable to speak. “So do I. Why do you always have to do this to me?”

Tony simply shook his head, he had no words, no explanation for you that would be sufficient. You were his rock, the one person in this whole circus he could always depend on and to see that look on your face… He did what he always did when he felt a negative emotion. Backing away from you his eyes dropped to the floor and he nodded his head to himself before turning on his heels and walking out of the room.

“Everything okay?” Rhodey popped his head round the doorframe, a look of concern on his face which only deepened when he saw you standing there close to tears.

“Perfect, Rhodey.” You let out a mirthless laugh. “Go make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.” He was torn for a moment before disappearing off after Tony, closing the door behind him.

Collapsing into the chair you put your face in your hands before resting your head on the hardwood of the desk. What the hell was going on? Nothing about this entire fiasco was making any sense and you needed some answers, something solid you could hold on to. Tony had always been, well, Tony, but he was getting worse. You had been working with him for so long, perhaps it was time for a change of cast, someone who might treat you more as an equal? He knew you would always go to bat for him but the excuses, the reasons he was giving you to justify his behavior were just becoming ridiculous. There was no way in hell that storm out was purely to get under Barnes’ skin and even if that was the intention you had the feeling it hadn’t worked. It was clear you couldn’t continue like this and he didn’t appear emotionally stable enough to have an actual conversation and if you were being completely honest, you didn’t have the nerve to actually leave him.

With a sigh, you sat up and looked at the board, replaying the moves from each player in your mind. You were a damn good player in your own right, could see where both of them could have been going with their plays and though it would have been tight you really did believe Stark would have won this one. Getting up you began to pace the room, not composed enough to leave and return to your own room and the last thing you needed was the press getting pictures of you like this after the histrionics of the game. Maybe you were on nobody’s side. You couldn’t condone Tony’s behavior, but you didn’t want him to lose. Karpovs words about this not being a threat to Tony’s way of life rang through your head again and you found your thoughts filled with those beautifully intense, stormy grey eyes. 

There was a sadness about Barnes that had you intrigued. Though that wasn’t the only reason he had caught your eye. The way he played was so controlled, so methodical but with an understated genius that more than matched Tony’s. The way his fingers ran along the pieces as he contemplated his next move, the slight twitch of his brow as he concentrated. Shaking yourself, you wondered when you had paid that much attention to the Russian. Casting your mind back to the only conversation the two of you’d had, you realised his accent wasn’t as thick as Karpovs. There was a twang of something else there and you filed that information away for later scrutiny. Perhaps this Russian wasn’t as red as everyone thought.

Needing to get out of the room, you stalked down the hallway to the elevator and took a deep breath as the door opened. Thankfully it was empty and you pressed the button for your floor. There was no doubt in your mind that the cracks in your relationship with Tony were beginning to show. There was only so much rescuing you could do, if only for your own sanity. For the past seven years you had placed your life on hold, always being wherever Tony needed you, hand holding and ego bolstering when necessary as well as strategically planning and wrangling the media. No relationship you had ever attempted to have survived in the heat of your relationship with Stark. It was like he was the sun and your entire universe revolved around him - and you were fine with that. That was the price you paid for being so close to a genius, right? The elevator door pinged open and you held your head high as you made your way to your room. Perhaps that price was a little too high after all. Perhaps, it was time to realise you were out on your own, had always been really. Better learn to go it alone. You would see him through this tournament and then… How often had you said that to yourself over the years and yet you were still here? Better just to sleep on it, begin the reparation work in the morning.

It had taken every negotiation skill you had but the Russians had eventually agreed to a meeting. Knowing you needed to ‘handle’ Tony as well as the situation, you had scheduled the get together in an exclusive bar that overlooked the mountains. In true Stark style, you were running late and a panic had settled in your stomach which only grew as you entered the venue to find no sign of Barnes. Taking a seat at the bar you smiled at Tony, trying to keep everything calm. 

“Well, where the hell is he? We’re ten minutes late and he isn’t even here!” he huffed.

“He’ll be here.” You assured him, sounding more confident than you felt.

“You’re losing your touch.” Tony accused, and you bit back the urge to slap him round the back of his head. “I don’t know what I’m doing letting you handle these things.” You both knew that comment was just his nerves, that he would actually be lost without you.

“He’ll be here. Shut up and have a drink.” You waved the bartender over and looked at Tony for his order.

“You have a drink. I’m off to look at the mountain. I might be back.” Something about his tone did not sit well with you and before you could react he was gone.

“Tony! Wait!” you called but he was already lost in the crowd. You sighed and ordered a very alcoholic drink. You made your way out onto the balcony where it was a little quieter as you considered your next move.

“Hello.” You turned at the sound of a voice which had been trapped inside your head for the past 24 hours. “Just you here? Where’s your boss? I thought…” Barnes looked around as if expecting Tony to come leaping out of the crowd like some angry ninja.

“Oh, he’s here,” you smiled a little too brightly as you tried to reassure him that absolutely nothing was wrong. “He will be right back in a minute. Have a drink while we’re waiting.” James looked at you curiously but flagged down a member of the bar staff and ordered a beer.

“I hope I’m here for the reasons Karpov told me. Or is this some stunt? Are we being filmed?” His eyebrow raised, his tone only half joking as he wondered what Stark could possibly come up with next to try and discredit him.

“Of course not.” You very nearly rolled your eyes but caught yourself. There was a reason behind this meeting and you needed to get this on the road with or without Tony there. “We’re here to get the match back together, to clear up this whole misunderstanding.” Both of you were aware that ‘misunderstanding’ didn’t come anywhere near to describing current events and Barnes moved to lean on the balcony, looking out at the beautiful view.

“I suppose you’re used to this sort of behavior by now.” It was a statement rather than a question but instead of it being accusatory, it seemed to be a little melancholic, almost as if he wished that wasn’t so.

You moved to stand beside him while you took a sip of your drink, a silence covering the pair of you. This was the one situation you had wanted most to avoid. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Karpov and a few other suited men watching your every move. You knew nothing you said could possibly convince Barnes this wasn’t a set-up, some sort of trick. Trust Tony and his perfect bloody timing to leave you stranded here massively outnumbered by Russians. You let out a sigh as your eyes scanned the undulating landscape.

James watched you from the corner of his eye. Here he was having a drink on a beautiful clear moonlit night… there was definitely something underhand going on, he just couldn’t figure out which side was playing him. Surely this clever, articulate woman beside him couldn’t be working for Karpov. But if not then where was Stark? He had wanted this meeting, right? Barnes thought back to the game. The moment where he and Tony had met each other’s gaze and he had seen fear there. Perhaps he was just scared and she was right, he would show up any moment now. Until then, surely he could let himself enjoy her company. It was so rare he socialized with anyone and even if she was a spy she was a very attractive one.

You caught Bucky’s eyes roaming over your face and felt your cheeks flush. Taking another, more liberal sip of your drink, you felt the panic start to rise again. Shit! What if he thought this was all some elaborate plot of yours to make a move on him? Not that if he made a move you wouldn’t. Blinking rapidly you searched your brain desperately for something to say, the silence now heavy.

“Listen.” James turned to face you with a sad smile on his lips. “I hate to break up the increasingly awkward mood we have going on here but, you think we can get to the point? We are a protagonist short here and if these matters are to be discussed and some sort of peace made we do kinda need him.”

“He was right here. I swear to you I brought him and then I went to the bar to get a drink and…” You trailed off and looked at him so apologetically that it made him want to punch Stark all the more for making you feel like that.

“Ah, in that case, it is his loss. The beer is good, the view excellent.” And the company beautiful, he added in his head as his eyes met yours and he felt his heart stutter. “I haven’t missed him so far.” He watched you look away back out over the scenery and take another gulp of your drink. A genuine smile played on his lip in the first time for what felt like years and he couldn’t help but think he didn’t care if Stark took a running jump off the mountain right then, he just wanted to keep your company all for himself.

“This is the one situation I wanted to avoid.” You said softly, and he quirked an eyebrow questioningly causing you to laugh lightly.

“Really? I can’t imagine why.” The sarcasm was dripping from his words as amusement danced in his eyes and you forced back your own smile, instead adopting a wide-eyed innocent, almost insulted look.

“So you don’t consider me dangerous then?” You asked, placing a hand to your chest before smirking into your drink. “What a shame.” Bucky laughed, a warm and carefree sound that set your pulse racing.

“No. You’re not dangerous, who could ever think that of you? Smart, yes. Intimidating, definitely. Brilliant, absolutely.” Your company was refreshing and more than a little intoxicating for him. He knew you wouldn’t sugar coat things, lie to him, attempt to manipulate him for your own ends like everyone else who surrounded him. In your presence, he felt he could finally relax and just be himself.

“You are so strange.” You shook your head and looked at him through narrowed eyes. This man before you was not what you were expecting at all and you found yourself unable to focus on the actual task at hand which was getting the match back on track. “Why can’t you be what you ought to be?” You asked in amused exasperation.

“What do you mean?” He tilted his head, brow furrowed and in that moment you knew you were in trouble. The last time you’d felt like this was when you’d met Stark.

“You should be scheming and underhand and…” You desperately tried to make him seem like the bad guy here but your words were hollow. He was just a man. A beautifully sad and unsure man with a passion that had led him here. Your words trailed off and he didn’t rush to fill the silence that now hung between you. Neither of you’d realised you had gravitated towards each other throughout the conversation and now stood mere millimeters apart. James reached up and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“I have to hand it to you,” His voice little more than a whisper but you could hear each word as clear as a bell. “You’ve managed to make me forget why I ever agreed to this farce.” You smiled softly before clearing your throat and pulling away a little but it was too late.

Tony had returned to the bar, the feeling of guilt at leaving you to clear up his mess yet again had, for once, forced him to attempt to do the right thing. Walking towards the balcony he froze. His chest hurt and his vision went a little blurry at the edges as the world span. He watched as Barnes reached up and he felt sick witnessing what looked like such an intimate moment between you. Gripping the doorframe he turned and barged through the crowds and out of the bar, the feeling of betrayal drowning him as tears began to stream down his face.


	4. Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cosy scenes at the bar forever etched in Tony’s mind can only mean you’re in for a rocky ride.

It was late when you reached the hotel. James’ company had been refreshing and you couldn’t remember when you had laughed so much. On autopilot, you headed to Tony’s practice room to check that he had made it back after his disappearing act. That would be your first port of call before his suite, where you would probably hear him ‘entertaining’ some girl he’d picked up somewhere, grinding yet another little piece of your heart into dust as you snuck back to your room. The routine was so familiar that when you opened the door to the practice room you were startled to see him sitting behind the desk, a half-empty bottle of whiskey next to him as he gave the board in front of him a death stare.

“So,” he began, his voice low with the hint of a slur, “you finally got what you wanted.” He leaned back in his chair and let his eyes roam from the board to your feet. There was no possible way he could look you in the eye and not see how you had been with Barnes. The way your eyes had sparkled, and your smile… he remembered a time you had smiled at him like that. True, he had never allowed anything to happen between the two of you-you were far too important in his life for him to fuck it up by telling you how he really felt - but he had never even considered that you might find someone else.

“What I want?” you questioned, stepping forward a little into the pool of lamplight. He looked like shit and you wondered just what the hell had happened to him after he left your side.

“You’re just like everyone else.” He swept his arms wide in an all-encompassing gesture.

“Except you… oh, you are so much worse. Setting me up just to pull me right back down and then… then use that to your advantage.” His furtive gaze landed everywhere but on you.

“You’re drunk Tony,” you sighed, moving with the intention of taking him to his room. The thought that James’ seconds probably never had to deal with shit like this crossed your mind and you frowned; you’d never compared your position to others before.

“The only person whose side you’re on is yours.” He moved away from you and pointed an accusatory finger. The anger and hurt that flashed in his eyes caused you to stop in your tracks and take a real hard look at him. This was so much more than the drink. “What is it? The biological clock ticking a little louder these days? At least you have a type. You’re getting old and worried that it’s never gonna happen for you, sweetheart?” He spat, causing you to take a step back. This was so far from the usual arguments that it unnerved you. You felt momentary concern -but in true Stark fashion he just couldn’t stop his stupid mouth and your concern soon turned to outrage. “I’m the one who supports you, the one who gave you all this and how do you repay me? You are so far past your prime, on the way down, and you risk it all by acting like a whore?” A silence fell between you and Tony sobered up almost immediately when he realised what he’d just done.

“A whore?” your voice was quiet but level, and you raised your head, looking at him blankly. “All these years Tony, all this time I have been the one stood here by your side, the one clearing up each and every one of your messes. How the hell did we ever get this far before you showed me what you really are? This man, this thing you’ve become… you would be lost without me, Stark. You think anyone else is going to put up with your abuse?” The words hung heavy in the air as you stared at him, both of your hearts breaking as you realised there was a very real chance your partnership couldn’t come back from this.

“Get out.” He muttered, sliding back into his chair and looking at the board once again. “Go be someone else’s parasite.” Blinking a few times, you nodded your head and silently left the room making sure to close the door behind you.

Tony watched your retreating form before placing his head in his hands and letting out a sob. He hadn’t meant it; the words had been pulled from a place of hurt and self-hatred. The world was watching him, he spent his time in the spotlight and he didn’t have the luxury of doing exactly what he wanted because they were always judging him. It had been that way his entire life. From his father right through to the critics circling out there just waiting for him to fail; he had been pushing to give them what they wanted, to gain their acceptance, their love. 

There had only ever been two people he had been certain of in his entire life, Rhodey and you. Tears stained his cheeks as he realised that number had probably just been cut in half.

Rhodey had been heading to his room when he spotted you leaving the practice room, your lower lip trembling and fists clenched at your sides. Hurrying over, he slid his arm around your waist and led you to the elevator. “I take it things didn’t go so well with the Russians then.” He looked at you with sympathy and you felt the tears welling up in your eyes.

“The game is back on. Barnes…” you trailed off and took a deep breath. “I can’t do this anymore Rhodey.” His grip on you tightened and as the doors to the elevator opened both of you were glad to find nobody inside. He pressed the button to take you to your floor and turned to lean against the wall.

“I know he’s a pain in the ass but he’s our pain in the ass.” He attempted a half joke but when he saw the look on your face he knew this was more than just blowing off steam.

“Do you remember when we met? Seems like a lifetime ago now, not even my lifetime. Within an hour of meeting him I was signed up, would have followed him anywhere - he just had to ask. He was brilliant.” You sighed, your eyes closing as a tear slipped down your cheek and Rhodey brushed it away with his thumb. “He was passionate and engaging and fun and… vulnerable.”

“He is still all those things, honey.” He said softly and you gave him a sad smile.

“I loved him so much Rhodey. Those feelings don’t just disappear but I… he has made it impossible for me to stay.” A small voice in your head added that he probably wouldn’t miss you anyway. Opening your eyes at the elevator’s ‘ding’, you exited the small space and headed towards your room.

Rhodey followed with a frown on his face. Sure, he’d seen you and Tony go at each other, had you cry on his shoulder when the boss showed up with yet another girl, but he’d always figured the two of you would work things out.

“Has he been drinking? You know he talks bullshit when he’s drunk.” He offered hopefully but he’d never seen you like this and he really was worried Tony had finally done something so irreversibly stupid.

“This… this is all someone else’s story right here, Rhodey. If this wasn’t me; If we came across a girl down in the bar and she told us her story, my story, we’d be telling her to run and not look back.” Your eyes met his and you both knew that was true. In all honesty, Rhodey had thought you and Tony would go the distance, that one day Stark would open his eyes and see the thing he had been fighting for all these years was right there in front of him. Lately, though, he had feared this ship had too many holes in it to sail.

“Sleep on it, okay? Don’t do anything too…” Your eyes met and the word left hanging in the sentence was ‘Stark’. 

“There’s nothing left to say Rhodey, not that he’d listen if I did stay.” You smiled sadly at him and rather than protest he simply nodded. 

“What will you do?” he asked quietly as you pulled your keycard from your purse.

“No idea.” You laughed mirthlessly, turning to look at your old friend. “Look after him for me.” He nodded and you felt the tears pricking at your eyes again. You gave him a bright smile, pulling him in for a tight hug before quickly entering your room. Once the door was closed you let the tears flow, sobs wracking your body as you slid down the door and into a ball on the carpet.


	5. Part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tournament is coming to a close but with Barnes reluctant to return home and Stark pushing away everyone he loves it appears everyone's futures are uncertain.

James Barnes had decided enough was enough. There was so much pressure, so many people telling him what to do and what would happen if he didn’t win. He just needed a moment to himself. As he wandered through the lobby the memory of the previous night with you came to mind and the corners of his mouth twitched up in a soft smile. For just one evening he had felt like himself and he hadn’t realised how much he missed that. The crowd outside the hotel had him deciding that a walk outside would not be as calming as he had hoped and turned, a grin spreading across his face when he spotted you, sitting alone.

You were sat in the bar, indulging in one last drink before you headed to the airport in the hopes of catching a flight back home. There had been no attempt from Tony to contact you, but you knew full well he had read your email resignation. You hadn’t exactly expected him to come running after you, to apologize, or ask you to change your mind, but the absolute silence stung.

“Hiding out?” A familiar voice asked softly, and you looked up to see those hypnotic grey eyes watching you with curiosity.

“Something like that.” You replied with a with a wry chuckle. He looked down with a smile which quickly dropped when he saw the suitcase by your feet. The panic and hurt in his eyes when they met yours again was something you hadn’t expected.

“You’re leaving? But the match, it’s a few hours away and…” His brow furrowed with a hint of confusion.

“And I no longer work for Tony Stark.” You stated simply, knocking back the remains of your drink and placing it carefully back on the bar. Barnes nodded to himself, taking in this information.

“So, come work for me.” He reached out and took your hand. There was so much darkness in his life, he couldn’t let the only source of light he had come across up and leave. “Karpov can’t play. I need a chess-playing second and… Okay, look, I know you won’t want to take up this post before this match so just promise me you won’t leave. I… please.”

There was a wildness in his eyes as he pleaded and for a moment you wondered how this man, who was practically a stranger, could sit here and beg you to stay when the man you had stood beside for seven years daren’t even send you a text.

“James. I appreciate the offer, really I do but…” you didn’t want his pity, even though the idea of working with him was tempting.

“If I came to America would you agree?” He asked earnestly, voicing the plan that had begun to form since last night.

“If you- What?” You looked at him in confusion, this conversation was so far from anything you’d imagined having today.

“If I got out, could leave and come to America, or England or…or… anywhere. Come with me. Fulfill your dream of working with the best.” He gave you a boyish grin and you laughed.

“You’re really serious about this aren’t you?” It was more of a statement than a question, both of you recognizing the other’s the need to escape. You had just walked away from everything that you knew, your job, your friends, hell, you weren’t even sure your plane ticket would still be paid for by the time you got to the airport. Here was a solid offer: potential. He had already acknowledged you were good, that you should be paid what you were worth, and he didn’t seem like he would be as much work as Stark. Your eyes rested on the case by your feet and you realised this might just be fate stepping in with the offer of a lifetime. After all, what did you have to lose? “Focus on the match, Barnes. Leave the rest up to me.” The smile your words had earned you, made your stomach flip. This was crazy, but it seemed like crazy was the theme for the whole damned final.

“It’s not too late, just…” Rhodey pleaded only to be brushed aside again.

“I have a final to win. I got here on my own and I will win this on my own. I don’t need her. I don’t need anyone. I am Tony Stark, the World Chess Champion and I WILL retain my title.” 

There was an anger in his words that Rhodey didn’t like. He watched Tony pacing the room, running his fingers through his hair until it was completely disheveled, his outer appearance beginning to match the wild and slightly manic look in his eyes. The door opened and both men’s eyes darted to it. Both secretly hoped you would come sweeping in to save the day. Tony’s face fell when he saw one of the stage crew lackeys.

“It’s time to go Mr Stark.”

Tony nodded and made his way out of the room and towards the stage.

Your eyes were glued to the television screen in the corner of the bar. When Tony appeared, you felt your heart stutter; he looked like shit. His usual over the top greeting to the crowd was lacking and you knew he was really hurting and that killed you. The game was tense, and you found yourself leaning closer and closer to the screen, your lower lip firmly between your teeth. It was seven moves in when you realised Barnes had Tony beat. For Stark to lose the first match would put him on the back foot but there were three more to go. Watching your former boss and your possible future employer had you torn. Whatever Barnes wanted to get away from would only be helped by the win but you also knew how losing the title would destroy Tony. All you could do was sit there, watch, and wait.

“I give you, the NEW World Chess Champion!” Vision stepped aside and allowed Barnes to step forward, looking a little like a deer in headlights, clearly uncomfortable with the media circus of the press conference.

“So, now you have the title what are you planning?” An eager reporter called out, thrusting her microphone in his direction and a hush descended as everyone waited to hear his answer.

“I am reassessing the team I have around me; I don’t wish to become complacent.” James struggled to find the words. Here he was, exactly where he had always wanted to be, the champion, and yet… He saw Karpov in his peripheral vision and tensed; he had to get away from these people.

“Are you saying Stark was lazy?” The question caught him off guard and his face showed just that.

“Oh NO! No no no, he was a very worthy opponent but there will be other opponents and I have to be prepared. I am also planning to relocate.” He hadn’t meant to let that slip, it wasn’t definite. Hell, he wasn’t even sure you would still be waiting in the bar after all this, but he wanted to move the attention away from Stark, let him lick his wounds in private without pouring salt on them.

“Relocate?”

“What?”

“Where are you going?”

“You’re leaving Russia?” The barrage of questions grew, each reporter yelling to be heard over the last until their voices just melded into one discordant cacophony.

“Please, please.” Barnes held up his hands, the room gradually quieting. He licked his lips, not entirely sure what to say as he felt their eager eyes on him. The image of you came to his mind. Last night as you stood with him on the balcony, laughing at something, and the moonlight had seemed to shine in your eyes. The way you had looked at him, like he was just a man, not something to be used and discarded. He cleared his throat and looked out at them, suddenly feeling confident, certain in his decision. “I am spreading my wings, I’m going to explore and find new and interesting ways to play this game that I love. This does not mean I simply cease to be Russian. No matter where my journey takes me, no matter where I settle, I will always carry Russia within my heart. Thank you.” He simply nodded and exited the stage, ignoring the calls of his name and the look of undiluted hatred Karpov was shooting him.


	6. Part 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 12 months on and Barnes is back to defend his title. So much has changed but the game appears to remain the same. Especially if Karpov has anything to do with it.

The last twelve months had been… Well, to be fair, Tony couldn’t remember most of it; he had been viewing his life through the bottom of a bottle. But now, oh, now he was ready. This would be his big comeback. So what if he wasn’t playing, had dropped off the circuit after dramatically trashing five rooms at the hotel the previous year? So what if he had locked himself away in his opulent house, barely even seeing the light of day? This was Bangkok. This was the stage for his comeback, an opportunity for him to move from the board to the pundit and commentators chair. From where he was standing he could control the game in a way he’d never previously achieved, and that challenge thrilled him. Stepping out of his cab he surveyed the oriental setting and grinned. This place had no idea what was about to hit it. Oh yeah. Tony Stark was back and in a place like this - there was no limit to the fun he could have.

“James! We’re going to be late!” You giggled as he pulled you back into his arms and placed soft kisses along your neck.

“I don’t care. Let them wait.” He growled and you turned in his arms with an attempt at a reproachful look. 

“As the Champion, you know how important these little press gatherings are. Come on, it’s not every day they get to see the former Russian number one face off in the final against a fellow Russian is it?” You smiled up at him and he rolled his eyes dramatically, a grin still playing on his lips.

“Why are you always so right?” He sighed and reluctantly took a step back, his hands still resting on your hips.

“Because I am good at my job. What? You don’t like working with the best?” You scolded playfully, trying to push him out of the hotel room. “Now come on or we are going to be late!” 

You knew the real reason why he was so reluctant to go, and it wasn’t just because he hated being in front of the press. You both knew Karpov would be down there, the poor challenger probably in the same situation as Barnes had found himself the previous year. He didn’t talk about what had happened, the strain and the pressure, but you knew from the nightmares that haunted him it had been enough to break a man.

As you made your way down to the press conference beside him, you thought back on how far you had both come in the last year. The relationship between you was still undefined, the line between professional and personal incredibly blurred. Standing on the sidelines as he took the spotlight, you wondered if you had known last year, somewhere deep down, that you would be stood here; perhaps that was why you took him up on his offer in the bar. Was it the promise of professional fulfillment or… or was it the look in those thundercloud eyes of his that made your heart beat just a little erratic. Did you really do all this for the love of a man? Not that your motivation back then really had any effect on what you were feeling now. Now you knew; there was no way to explain it, no real logic behind it, but you knew you were completely in love with James Barnes - and that terrified you.

You had been down a similar road before, though your feelings for Tony had never been this strong. It was as if your whole existence revolved around James. A simple smile or a touch sent your soul soaring to unfathomable heights. You knew it wasn’t quite that way for him - he was focused on the game - but there were brief moments, just flickers really, when you were laying next to him in a post-coital haze where you could fool yourself into believing that just maybe he was just as besotted.

Time was not your friend and you knew that one day you would wake up and he would have realised that he completely understood you, that there was no puzzle there anymore, and just like Tony, he would move on, looking for the next challenge. Maybe that was just the way life worked when you were attracted to such brilliance. Shaking yourself from your thoughts, you felt someone watching you and glanced across the stage to see Karpov staring at Barnes. The look in his eye was enough to make you involuntarily shudder. Crossing your arms over your chest you tried to focus on James but the creeping feeling of being watched never quite left you.

Karpov was seething. Barnes should be in shambles -an absolute mess- and yet here he stood, calm and ready to defend his title. There was no doubt he was a better player than Lang but there was more than one way to win a tournament. Brushing down his suit he turned and stalked away. Had Barnes really forgotten who he was up against? Karpov knew everything there was to know about the man and he knew exactly which buttons to press to start unraveling his focus.

Tony took in his new surroundings from the commentators' box and grinned. It was different, but not in a bad way. From here, everyone would have to listen to him and his genius. Glancing towards the stage he saw Barnes and rolled his eyes. Sure, that guy had been savvy enough to nab you when the opportunity presented itself, and Tony could see a hint of your style in what Barnes was wearing, but he still hadn’t lost that uncertain look in front of a crowd. Tony chuckled to himself, they were in desperate need of a showman up there. His eyes left Barnes and his grin faltered. He had known you were going to be there, of course, you would be, but no matter how prepared he thought he was, it didn’t stop his heart plummeting into his stomach when he saw you standing there at the side of the stage.

He still couldn’t quite believe it was over between the two of you. He had always hoped you would just show up, make some sarcastic comment about him being a fucking idiot, and he would agree in a way that let you knew he was sorry without actually having to say the words. It had taken him quite a while but eventually, he admitted to himself that he had left it too late. He’d always thought the both of you had more time, that he could show you how much you meant to him after the next match, or tournament or press crisis, but it was always ‘after’. He hadn’t realised how much you had brightened his life until you had gone. The shadows now crept in around him, leaving everything a murky kind of grey. It was no secret you were 90% of his impulse control and without you, he had lost his focus.

Standing there, unable to take his eyes off of you, he longed to just walk up, look you in the eye, and say he was sorry; that he loved you and always had, that he was a fool, that he should have begged you to stay. His vision became a little blurred and he blinked back the tears rapidly. He knew he was too much of a coward to ever tell you any of that and at the end of the day, he wanted you to be happy. He just hoped Barnes made you happy.


	7. Part 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karpov is determined to win using any means necessary, so what does it mean for Barnes when the arrival of Natasha is headline news?

You sat frozen on the end of the bed, your eyes glued to the television screen where an incredibly attractive redhead was stepping off a private jet, smiling demurely and waving to the press. James was pacing, which was never a good sign, and you just felt numb. There was no way to process this.

“Well,” you breathed out, “I always thought in an affair the first hint of trouble would be something small, one of those things easily missed but no, we get ours in glorious technicolor on the news.” It was an attempt to lighten the mood, but you couldn’t bring your tone to match your intention.

“Listen,” He began, running his fingers through his hair with agitation which only increased when he saw Karpov greeting Nat on the screen. “This… this changes nothing.” He gestured towards the screen and avoided making eye contact.

“This changes things James. Your personal life is the lead on the news! You can’t simply ignore that! They are all expecting a great reunion between you and your wife.” You practically spat the word out. You had been blissfully unaware of Mrs Barnes’ existence until an hour ago when reports of her flying in to support her husband had begun to surface.

“They are trying to play mind games, get into my head. I MUST ignore this because if I don’t I may as well hand over my title now. If I give in to this emotional blackmail…” He began to justify his actions but you cut him off.

“JAMES THIS ISN’T JUST ABOUT YOU!” Your raised voice brings his eyes up to yours and a heavy silence falls over the room.

“What do you mean?” There is genuine confusion in his eyes and you felt your heart crack.

“We are a team, James. Me and you.” Your voice is quiet and he frowns.

“All I’m saying is that I can’t let anything distract me from the game. When I’ve won, then I will deal with all these minor details.” He shrugged and gestured again to the screen.

“Minor details?” you could feel the hysteria building within you and you tried to push it down. “I suppose I’m a minor detail, a distraction.” You smiled wryly and he let out a deep sigh of frustration.

“No… I mean… look… this right here is what they want. You’re reacting exactly how they want you too, pulling your strings.” He was getting angry now, not at you but the situation and Karpov and how he still wasn’t free of them.

“Pulling my strings? James, right now I don’t give a flying fuck about them. If something concerns me, troubles me, then I can’t just put a pin in it and come back to it later. The damage may have already been done by then.” You tried to reason with him but the slam of his fist on the desk made you jump back a little.

“If you are so determined to let them play you then you can do it on your own. I am going to concentrate on the game. If you want to give in to hysterics and you need company maybe you should call Natasha. I’m sure the pair of you would have plenty to talk about.” Stalking out of the room he slammed the door violently, leaving you shaking and on the verge of tears.

Barnes got into the elevator and headed down to the practice room. Once inside he closed the door and let out an almost inhuman yell as he slid down the wall and came to sit on the carpet. Why did this have to be so complicated? All he wanted to do was play chess. Closing his eyes he rested his head back against the wall and frowned. He knew he shouldn’t have said those things to you. He should have cupped your beautiful face in his hands and reassured you that he was so unbelievably, deeply in love with you and that he was planning on getting a divorce from Natasha after a two year separation period and then, oh, then he was planning on making you his and giving you the life you deserved. That’s what he should have said but Karpov forced his hand, got into his head. Punching his thigh in frustration James growled. He was going to hit Karpov right where it hurt. He was going to win this tournament and retain his title.

Turning the television off you wipe the stray tears from your cheeks. Calling down to reception you book a single room for the duration on the tournament, you didn’t think you could take the humiliation of Natasha showing up to the room and then having to relocate. The bubble had to burst at some point, things between you and James had been as close to perfect as you could have ever dreamed of. Looking back over your time together maybe you could have done things differently but even if you had, maybe you would still be here; realising there was always a part of him that would never have been yours.

It had never been your intention to be ‘the other woman’ and perhaps you should have done more research but you thought you knew him. You thought the both of you shared something, but maybe that had all been an illusion. As you packed your clothes into your case you mentally chastised yourself. You knew how this was going to go at the start, repeating the same mistakes you had with Tony. James needed to focus, so that’s what you would let him do. Picking up your things you left the room and made your way to reception to pick up your new room key.

Natasha sat in the back of a car, Karpov beside her with an evil smirk on his face. “I am so sorry to be the one to inform you of your husband’s infidelities, my dear.” He interlaced his fingers and placed his hands in his lap smugly.

The redhead simply nodded and continued to view the passing landscape through the window. She wasn’t stupid, of course she had known there was someone else. It’s not like your husband all but emigrates, starts a new life without you, and there wouldn’t be some other woman involved somewhere. Hearing it from a supercilious asshole like Karpov just made it sting so much more. There was no doubt that Bucky was no longer the man she fell in love with but she had moved her world to be with him on more than one occasion and she’d be damned if she was going to let him just walk away without looking her in the eye and telling her he was done.

Karpov assumed she had taken up his offer of tickets and travel to the final because she wanted to be the dutiful wife, that had been a mistake on his part, she was angry. The anger came from years of being in this strange limbo, of him never being straight with her, of stealing her life. 

The car speed on to the hotel, it’s passengers silent, lost in their own thoughts.


	8. Part 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> East meets West in a tournament to end all tournaments but with so much on the line for everyone involved is anyone truly going to come out of this a winner?

Karpov was not happy. Bringing the redhead here was supposed to knock Barnes right off his game but so far there hadn’t been any fireworks or even a hint of discomfort from his former charge. There had to be a weak link, had to be a chink in that man’s armor. Maybe his wife hadn’t been the way in but as Karpovs eyes roamed the hotel bar he saw you swiftly walking through the foyer and it was as if the lights had suddenly got brighter. He’d been focusing on the wrong woman. An unpleasant smile spread across his face as he realised that you were his way in.

Stark had a spring in his step as he walked into the hotel bar. His controversial commentary was proving popular and he wondered why he hadn’t made the move sooner. “Whiskey please, my good man.” He grinned at the man behind the bar brightly as he took a seat.

“Allow me to pay for that.” A thick Russian accent caught his attention and immediately soured his mood.

“I can get my own drinks.” Stark snarled as his eyes met Karpov’s. He had some sort of respect for Barnes, at least he could play even if he was a red. The asshat in front of him, however, was one of those ‘political’ types. A puppet master. Tony had come across men like him before and he’d hated them just as much.

“Simply trying to offer the hand of friendship. I have no animosity towards you Mr Stark.” Karpov’s voice was as smooth as silk, almost hypnotic and although Tony’s hand gripped his freshly poured drink his eyes hadn’t moved from the man now standing to his left.

“You mean I am no longer in your way.” Tony eyed him suspiciously and brought his glass to his lips.

“That may be a very astute way of looking at things,” Karpov chuckled, nodding his head. The man reminded Tony of a snake. Something about the way he moved and his seemingly unblinking eyes. It was unsettling, to say the least. “That being the case I do believe we have an adversary in common.” Karpov turned to the barman and ordered himself a drink.

“Adversary? I have no clue what you are talking about.” Tony turned to leave, already feeling the need to go take a shower after talking to Karpov for more than a minute.

“That’s a shame Mr Stark. I’d have thought you would still want the best for your former second but if her welfare is no longer your concern…” The words hung in the air and Tony felt an icy chill slide down his spine. Turning slowly, he glared at the Russian.

“Whatever you are thinking, don’t fucking dare.” He growled. “You want to take down Barnes? Your player not up to the task? Find another way to do it and leave her out of it.” Downing his whiskey he slammed his glass down on the bar and shot Karpov a look made of pure venom before storming out.

Standing outside the door to the practice room, Tony repeated his mantra in his head. ‘She needs to know, she needs to know, she needs to know’, before knocking a little more forcefully than he had intended. Upon hearing Barnes call out for him to enter, he took a deep breath and pushed open the door with a broad smile on his face. This was gonna hurt like hell but he’d be damned if he let Barnes see that.

Looking up from the board on the desk, James’ eyebrows raised in surprise as Tony entered. “I wasn’t expecting to see you.” He said, honestly.

“Yeah, well… I wasn’t expecting you to take my title and my second but shit happens.” He pulled a chair up to the desk and sat opposite Barnes, wondering just where to begin.

“Careful Stark, your bitterness is showing,” Barnes smirked as his eyes returned to the board.

“So… I spoke to your former boss earlier.” 

James’ eyes immediately filled with panic and shot up to meet Stark’s. His body tensed and all the old emotions came flooding back. Stark was offering up this information but did that mean he was now working with Karpov and attempting to earn his trust by saying that? The familiar feelings of paranoia swept over him, putting him on edge.

“I’m sure that was a riveting conversation.” He offered. The sudden tension did not go unnoticed by Tony who now wondered just how deep Karpov had sunk his hooks into Barnes.

“Highlight of my year.” Stark shot back, heavy on the sarcasm. “Look, he mentioned… just… is she okay?”

Barnes got to his feet, his eyes narrowed. “The way you treated her and you have the balls to come in here and ask that? We are not friends Tony. We are not rivals or even colleagues. We are nothing to each other, never will be. You really think you can use her to throw me off my game? Go back to Karpov and tell him to go fuck himself.”

“Hey, I don’t work for that cock weasel-”

“Don’t give me that shit Stark. You’ve obviously bent so far over for him he’s got his hand up your ass. Shove your fake concern and go back to the organ grinder. I don’t deal with monkeys.” With that insult, Tony got to his feet and slammed his hands down on the desk. Both men were practically nose to nose, snarling at each other.

“How can you only think of your own selfish ambition and not of her position? Or would you rather watch her world collapse just so you can win a stupid competition?”

“I think you have me confused with yourself.” Barnes spat, balling his fists so tight his knuckles were turning white. “Get. Out.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m gone.” Stark glowered as he pushed himself back and strode out of the room. If Barnes wasn’t going to listen to him then maybe you would.

He wasn’t sure he could do it, talk to you. Seeing you hurt his heart in a way he hadn’t previously known existed, and to speak to you… he wasn’t sure he could do that and keep everything together. He had been deep in thought, working on the courage to go find you, when a familiar scent wafted past him. You were wearing that perfume he always used to complain about, it had been so distracting, and he closed his eyes to breathe deeply for a moment. A peacefulness descended upon him and he heard his voice calling out your name before the nerves kicked back in. His rich chocolate eyes met yours and he almost froze. “I was an idiot.” His voice was small and you took a few steps towards him, curiosity written on your face. It was a very rare thing to hear the great Tony Stark admit he was an idiot. “I was stupid to ever let you walk away.” Tony frowned, this wasn’t what he had been planning on saying to you but he just couldn’t stop himself. “Please come home. I… There’s nothing that we can’t talk out, this is me and you.” He reached out and took your hand, a gesture that used to be so familiar now felt strangely new.

“Tony..?” You whispered this had completely blindsided you. All day you had been dealing with the fall out of Natasha’s arrival. That and avoiding James. The man stood in front of you now was a shadow of his former self, stripped back and raw somehow.

“We were great together. Me and you and the game, that was all we needed right? That, and Rhodey, and maybe a bottle or two? Leave him. Come back with me and we will pretend like none of this ever happened.”

“Are you sick Tony?” You wondered if this change in him was because there was some medical problem, that he needed someone to look after him and after exhausting all other avenues he had become desperate enough to ask you.

“No, I’m… I want you back.” He looked at you in confusion.

“Oh. I see. You want me back. Well, let me just go pack my things right now.” The sarcastic edge to your tone cut him deeper than he would care to admit. “Are you crazy? You talk about us being good together? When, Tony? When were we good because most of my memories are of clearing up after your mess and standing there while you had a go at me. You could have asked me last year and perhaps I would have considered it but now… I loved you, Tony Stark. I loved you with everything I had and that wasn’t enough. My thing with James may not be perfect - I might not even have a position with him after this tournament - but you don’t get to come here and ‘reclaim’ me as if I am something you own. You say you want me back? Did you even consider what I might want? What I might need? This is all about you, as usual. Goodbye Tony.” You turned on your heel and strode towards the elevator leaving him to watch slack-jawed. He knew you were right. It was completely selfish of him to pour all that out to you but it was the truth. He missed you. He missed all the little things like the way you would roll your eyes at him and the way you wouldn’t let him get away with shit. You quick comments and the way you would quickly change from frustrated with him to gentle as you read his mood. He had well and truly fucked up and now you were in Karpov’s sights he couldn’t even protect you.

Rhodey had been looking for his friend all evening. On his fourth sweep of the bar, he felt his shoulders relax as a familiar figure was propped up at the far end, staring into a glass of whiskey as if it might hold the solution to all of his problems. Taking the seat next to Tony, Rhodey looked up at the bartender and ordered another round. “Penny for your thoughts, although yours look pretty heavy so I may have to offer you a dollar for them.” He joked as two glasses were placed in front of them.

“I fucked up” Tony muttered, still staring at his drink.

“You’re gonna have to be more specific man because I have a whole list of things you might be referring to here.” Rhodey swirled his own drink before raising his glass only to pause at Tony’s next words.

“I saw her.” Starks' voice was emotionless, a fact which worried his friend immensely.

“And?” Rhodey said slowly, drawing out the word. It obviously hadn’t gone well or they wouldn’t be sitting here.

“I told her I was an idiot.” There was a pause before Rhodey nodded, rolling the words around his head.

“Well, that is definitely true.” He agreed.

“I told her I miss her.” Again, Rhodey nodded thoughtfully.

“Again, true.” He brought his glass up to his lips and was about to take a sip when Tony next spoke.

“I asked her to leave him.” Rhodey carefully put his drink down and turned to look at Tony with a raised eyebrow.

“You are a fucking idiot.” He sighed.

“I thought we already covered that.” Tony chuckled although there was little humor in it.

“You seriously asked her to leave him? I can just imagine what she said to that.”

“I fucked up. I am just so used to people overlooking me or laughing at me or just… not being good enough. Having to prove myself every fucking day is just exhausting. My dad, I was just a perpetual fucking disappointment there. The arguments between him and my mother about how much of a screw up I am… I used to just lock myself away in my room, turn up my music, pretend I couldn’t hear. That’s how I found chess. That’s where I started. Nine years old and the only person whose company I could just be myself in was my own. I taught myself how to play. It wasn’t like I could ask anyone else was it Not like I had anyone else.” Rhodey watched the swirling amber liquid in his glass. The story of Tony’s childhood was one he didn’t tell often but it didn’t get easier no matter how many times he heard it. “I realised I was good, I had ambition, knew what I wanted to do, I wanted to be the best. I joined the chess club at school and was told that I played ‘wrong’. That I didn’t fit the system. Can you imagine that? All I had ever wanted to do was play and I was told at the age of 11 that I didn’t fit into that world either. You know, my father never came to a single match. He’s dead and I am still trying to prove myself to him and… and in doing that I’ve fucked up possibly the only healthy relationship I ever formed. I love her, Rhodey. I love her, and I only realised after I’d lost her, how fucked up is that? She was right there in front of me and now… Now Karpov’s gunning for her, sees that she’s the way to Barnes.he’s gonna get hurt and I can’t do a damned thing about it.” He ran a hand over his face and sighed heavily. The feeling of helplessness he had felt as a child settled deep into his stomach. Rhodey reached over and placed his hand on Tony’s shoulder. He knew there were no words he could offer that would make this any better for his friend; he simply had to be there for him.


	9. Part 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> East meets West in a tournament to end all tournaments but with so much on the line for everyone involved is anyone truly going to come out of this a winner?

The final match. The stage was set. The crowd watching expectantly as a hush descended upon the room. The only sound was the clicking of chess pieces against the board as the match ran on, too close for even Stark to call.

Karpov stood with a supercilious smirk on his lips. How straightforward the game had been this year. He had not needed to employ any of his previous tactics with his new player. It had come as a relief to finally be working with someone who believed in loyalty to his country above personal desires. Barnes had been weak, had listened to the lies about freedom, the promises of a greater life. Look where his great ‘American Dream’ had taken him to. His eyes flickered from the board to the front row of the audience where Natasha sat, a practiced look of mild interest on her face. Karpov turned slightly and saw you across the stage and his smirk grew. Barnes was finished. Led astray by his distractions, casing a spurious starlight. He would take the offer Karpov had leveled at him moments before they took the stage. Either throw the game or his mistresses life would be pulled apart piece by piece, each detail played out in the world press including the truth about her parents' deaths. He had hinted that her past was far from the idyllic tale she believed in and should Barnes win a file in Karpovs possession would immediately make its way into the hands of the media vultures who were already circling. Yes. There was no way Barnes would win.

Stark had been keeping a close eye on Karpov since he had realised Barnes was not going to protect you. He had been standing backstage when he had overheard the Russians threat and, from the cold look in Barnes’ eyes, he was not entirely sure the current World Champ would concede the match. So, there was a file? He sent Rhodey a quick text as he made his way towards the commentary box. It was safe to say that the only certainty right now was that Barnes knew if he wins then the only thing won would be the chess. Thinking back to the previous year Stark wondered why Karpov hadn’t extended him the same offer. If it had come down to his title or her, Tony knew exactly what he would have done.

You stood on the stage, a picture of professionalism. No matter what was going on behind closed doors you weren’t about to give Karpov the satisfaction of knowing your heart was breaking. You were aware of Natasha’s presence in the front row, more than aware of Karpov’s leering gaze but your eyes were glued to the board in some perverse torture. This was the very thing that had taken not one but two men from you, this ‘game’, more important than people. Oh, how you had grown to hate it and the weakness of the men who played. 

James’ storm cloud eyes were fixed on the board but his mind was racing. He thought about those he had around him, they all looked at him as if he were a man who didn’t know what he was doing. A man whose private life caused the decline of his professional life, wrecked his great ambitions. Not a single one of them understood. Anyone could be a husband or a lover, it wasn’t difficult. All these idiots hiding in their domestic bliss from their failings. He was a champion. The best in the world. They expected him to sacrifice that for… Natasha came to his mind. The endless trials throughout their marriage where he had to pretend to take her sad demands into account when all he wanted was to be the best.

Natasha had walked into the practice room the previous evening and as soon as she closed the door Barnes had felt the familiar tension, like the air before a storm. Her green eyes burned into him and with a petulant sigh he finally looked up at her with a look of indifference which he knew made her blood boil. “So, husband of mine, I see you have embraced your new life.” Her tone was flat but there was a deep anger flickering in her eyes.

“Why are you here Natasha?” he moved around the desk before leaning against it, arms folded across his chest as he watched her wander around the room.

“I am here to support you, darling. Why would you assume I wouldn’t want a front row seat to the paranoia and hysterics that your little pastime brings? Such excitement in your little esoteric world. I stood on the sidelines all these years James. Perhaps you didn’t notice me, it’s not like you paid much attention to anything that went on around you. That’s how Karpov got to you. Then when you get to the top you just leave me the way you found me? You are a selfish, blind, egotistical asshole.”

“Nothing you have said is a revelation, Natasha. Would you feel happier if I sank to my knees and wept for you? I assume you haven’t brought Barton with you. No, that would undermine this act of the faithful and supportive wife you have going.”

“Do you blame me for finding solace in another? You may have suffered for your art but so did I. Your suffering though is portrayed as noble. Who could not be stirred by such dedication? It’s not very often that the critics soften but it seems you have won their hearts, if only they knew you don’t have one. Perhaps that’s a little unfair of me, after all, how could anyone truly appreciate the work that you’ve put in through the years, the blood, the sweat, the tears, the late nights and early starts. You belong to the game now, each of them owns a part of you and should they choose to tear you apart, well, that would be their choice.”

“So, you’re just letting me know that I ‘owe’ you, Natasha?” he shook his head, bored of this conversation.

“Because you’re the only person in all this who hasn’t suffered anything at all.” she spat back. The years of trailing after him, always putting him first and still he assumed his pain was far greater.

“You hated my success.” he snarled. He had always felt she didn’t support him in his desire to be the best, resented him for getting to the top.

“Well, I won’t crawl back to you. You can slink back to your pawns and to your tart.” Natasha’s eyes burned with pure hatred.

“And every poisoned word shows that you’ve never understood.” He stood up straight, challenging her to deny it.

“You mean like her? Oh James, really? You are rolling out that old line? My wife doesn’t understand me.” her laughter only irritated him more. Of course, you understood him, well, he hoped you still did. The thought that maybe he had already lost you only fuelled his irritation with the woman in front of him.

“And what line convinced Barton to jump into your bed?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Fuck you,” she screamed, picking up a chess piece from a nearby board and throwing it at his head, barely missing.

“What? Was that a little too close to home? I’ve had the divorce papers drawn up. I was going to wait for the two year separation period but I think we both want out of this before then.” His voice now held no sign of emotion, it was as cold as his stare.

“Irreconcilable differences?” Nat sneered, knowing how he wanted this to play out.

“I thought that would be the polite way to put both of our infidelities.” looking at her pointedly, he wanted her to acknowledge that this wasn’t all on him.

“I want it all. You owe me that.” She stood, folding her arms over her chest.

“Owe you?” he asked incredulously, almost laughing at the absurdity of the situation.

“Like you said James, none of this is a revelation. My consolation is realising that my only obligation is to myself. My lawyers will be in touch.”

Sitting in the auditorium he stared at the board. It was now or never. What sort of a man was he? It felt like there was no one in his life who wanted some piece of him, his success, his name, hell, even his freedom. He was so sick of everyone trying to dictate to him. This could all be over in two moves.

CLICK

He placed his rook down deliberately.

“A bold move there by the current champion, maybe Barnes has seen a chink in his opponent’s game.” Tony frowned. Was Barnes really going to throw you under the bus for the sake of a title?

CLICK

The counter move was exactly as James had predicted and the corners of his mouth twitched as he picked up his knight.

CLICK

His eyes met Langs and there was a moment's silence that felt as if it stretched out for an eternity.

“James Barnes has retained his title as World Chess Champion.” As the words bounced around the room Tony dropped his microphone and hurried out of the booth, his eyes searching for you in the crowd as the camera’s flashed and circus once again picked up its pace.


	10. Part 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> East meets West in a tournament to end all tournaments but with so much on the line for everyone involved is anyone truly going to come out of this a winner?

Bucky stood frozen to the spot, the whole room moving in slow motion. The cameras flashed and he was aware of people speaking, his arm being raised in victory, and yet he felt hollow. He knew that he wanted you, that he loved you, and yet he couldn’t explain why he had been so careless with you. His actions would once again harm you, but he had carried on with it, despite knowing this. Looking over at where you had been stood, he saw your retreating form but made no move to follow. You couldn’t have given him more than you already had and still, there was something in him that was… discontented? An aching in his soul which had never been filled, possibly never would. Turning back to the crowd his eyes passed over them unseeing, his jaw set and his heartbreaking. He may have lost you but he was still devoted to your affair, always would be.

Standing in your hotel room you folded your clothes carefully, placing them in your suitcase as you prepared to leave. The future was once again a huge unknown and you chastised yourself for allowing the dreams of you and James to become great expectations. You had known from the moment you had met that his ambition was greater, even than Tony’s, so why did you expect the relationship to be anything more? Sending out a silent plea to the universe, you prayed that the endless, weary procession of day following night following day would soon overwhelm your sad obsession. That this idea of ‘love’ you carried with you, this ache, this longing, would subside over time. Closing the case, you pulled the zip closed and vowed not to look back anymore, a task far easier said than done. Hopefully, one day, you would be happy to say you ‘knew him when’, that your time together would have that sepia glow of fond remembrance and the pain long forgotten.

You walked into the backstage area, prepared for the press conference. An ache pulled at your heart as the familiar smell of his aftershave met your nose. You didn’t even need to look up, you felt him standing beside you and at once you wanted to hold him and berate him in equal measures. “This is an all too familiar scene,” you sighed, eyes fixed on the floor before you, your words true in many senses. The setting, the feelings between you and your partner, the various protagonists in the small corridor.

“Hopeless reflections on what might have been?” he asked softly.

“What are you doing back here, Tony? Aren’t you supposed to be out there, on the other side?” You looked up at the man who had once been your best friend, the one person you might have confided in about the car crash that was your relationship with James. But that was a lifetime ago.

“I will be. Just wanted to see how you were holding up.” His eyes searched yours and your mind flickered back to that moment in the lobby.

“I just want to get this over with and go home.” You said truthfully, although you were no longer sure where ‘home’ was. Tony could see the flicker of pain cross your face and he frowned.

“You used to love this, the thrill of the win, the tightrope walk for the press.” he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, his other hand dramatically waving over in the direction of the stage.

“I’ve not won in a long time, Tony. Maybe I never really won anything.” you sounded so exhausted and broken but your face was resolute.

“Every single victory of mine was down to you. Couldn’t have done any of it without you, kid.” He placed a soft kiss to your temple and you automatically leaned into him. His presence was comforting in a way you hadn’t expected.

“One of these days I’m gonna be somebody’s first choice.” you smiled sadly and Tony’s eyes widened. He wondered if you knew about the file, about James’ betrayal.

“Did… did you ever think about us? About me and you?” he asked quietly and was surprised when he didn’t feel you stiffen beside him. Before any more words could be exchanged there was a call for the returning champion and his team to take the stage and you walked away, your mind spinning at his words. 

James handled the barrage of questions well. You had trained him on the art that had come so naturally to Tony and although it felt as if the incessant questions were coming from all sides there was a burning question unsaid, torturing him and you in equal measure. Nat was stood off to the side of the stage, always in your peripheral vision. That’s when a question caught your attention. “Bearing in mind your predicament now, what you did then, we’re just dying to know would you do it all again?” James’s head snapped to you and the question hung between you. The reporter was referring to his leaving Russia and then defending his title against his fellow Russian but it seemed to have hit a nerve.

As you left the stage, James grabbed your arm, pulling you back to him. “You know full well, right? It’s not hard to tell that my heart is breaking right now. I swear, I would give the world for that moment with you when we thought that this, that our love would go the distance, that this was it for us.”

“That moment has passed, far too fast and with no warning, but it passed. You and I, James, we’ve had a great run, chasing our hearts desires. You and your title, me and you, but we can’t go on pretending stories like ours have happy endings.” Your voice was soft, laced with a deep sadness as you gently removed his hand from around your arm.

His fingers gripped the small box in his pocket, the ring he had been carrying around for you. Had he made the wrong choice here? Should he have given up the game? Should he have gone after you when Natasha had first arrived? Was there any way back? Once again, he stood frozen while you walked away from him. James was pulled from his anguish by a firm hand patting him on the shoulder. Turning to his left he saw Tony, holding a manila file. “I really don’t like you, but I understand just how fucking much it hurts to watch her walk away and know that she’s not coming back.”

“She will be back. Our love is not one you easily walk away from.” James said with more confidence than he felt.

“You made your choice. You chose the game. It took me years to lose her, took you a year. That girl deserves the world. She is not only beautiful but unwaveringly loyal, smarter than anyone I ever knew and won’t put up with bullshit. She’s a once in a lifetime deal and you chose the game.”

“I won’t make the same mistake again,” James swore to himself that if there was even the smallest chance to atone for his cowardice he would take it, show her that she was his world, that he could turn his back on this whole circus.

“You may not get the chance,” Tony said dryly, his eyes fixed in the direction you had gone and gripping the file in his hands a little tighter. The last year without her had been hell but he had held back, thinking you were happy. As this wasn’t the case he knew he had to take this chance, grab the opportunity to finally tell you how he felt.

Making a final check of your hotel room, you were preparing to check out when there was a soft knock on your door. Wiping your tears from your cheeks with the back of your hand you took a stuttering breath and tried to compose yourself. Opening your door, your eyes widened and as you opened your mouth to speak firm hands cupped your cheeks and soft lips met yours in a kiss so tender, so nervous but hopeful, that it took you a moment to process the action. A forehead rested against yours and his thumbs lightly ran over your cheeks, smudging the tear tracks still evident. “I am so sorry. I love you. Please forgive me. Come home, come home to me. I can’t do any of this without you.” Looking deep into his eyes you knew that he truly meant it. Those words that you had waited so long to hear from him still made your heart flip, even though you had been so sure it was too late. Wrapping your arms around him, you held him tightly, as if that would keep all the shattered pieces of your heart together. You weren’t sure if this would work, if this should work, but you did know that there was something different between you now, that this man had changed in some way, was perhaps ready to love you the way you deserved.

“Let’s go home, Tony”


End file.
